Zoning Out
by Vialana
Summary: Coming out on a hot summer's day.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Static Shock featured herein.**

_This was originally a snippet of a longer story that has been mouldering on my hard drive for ages. I decided this scene worked better as a short story in its own right and decided to rework it and post it._

_Warnings: a fun bit of friendship-induced fluff and mentioned homosexuality._

**Zoning Out**

Richie loved Saturdays. There was usually less to worry about on weekends — what with the lack of school and all; plus, on Saturdays he could sleep as long as he liked. Most of the time. There was the occasional Bang-Baby that interfered with his usual Saturday laziness, but it never bothered him that much. Saving the world was pretty cool after all. This particular Saturday however, was tinged with a slight overtone of weariness.

"You sure you don't want to do anything?"

Lying in this particular position on Virgil's couch, Richie couldn't see into the kitchen where his best friend was busy searching the fridge for a suitable snack. So he didn't bother moving as he replied, "Completely."

"But it's the last Saturday before school. I feel like we should be embracing our last moment of freedom."

At that Richie had to arch his head over the arm of the couch and stare at the kitchen door. "Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?"

Virgil shrugged as he re-entered the lounge room stuffing half a sandwich into his mouth. He swallowed (mostly out of habit and some half-formed fear he'd once told Richie about Sharon managing to catch him out every time he talked with his mouth full and chew _him_ out about his disgusting habits later in the most embarrassing moments possible) before saying, "Not really. It's school."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Virg, the entire summer you've been bored out of your skull and, now that you'll finally have somewhere to expend all the extra energy, you complain about it."

"But it's school! As a teenager I'm obligated to rebel and despise forced institution ... or something."

Richie chuckled. "Such a stunning argument, I don't know how I managed not to see the horror of educating the masses before. Ignorance for all!"

Virgil put the plate of sandwiches he was holding down on the coffee table beside the popcorn before pushing Richie off the couch and taking his spot draped over the cushions.

Richie turned over on the rug and glared up at Virgil. "If I get carpet burn you're never hearing the end of it."

Virgil just snickered and grabbed the remote, flicking the television over to a music channel once he realised there was nothing on. With a sigh, Richie tried to make himself more comfortable; he grabbed a cushion from under Virgil's head, smirking at his best friend's glare. Three seconds later he was blinded by a magazine thrown onto his face. Virgil was looking innocent when he sorted himself out and glanced back up at his friend. He stuck out his tongue but didn't bother continuing the war — the lethargy of the day creeping back over him.

It wasn't exactly the nicest Saturday, overcast and humid, but it was quiet and still — a rarity these days in Dakota. In fact it had been a slow fortnight for Static and Gear, almost long enough for them to be worried about a possible planned attack by Ebon or Alva or someone. Neither of them wanted to say it aloud, but it was too quiet. Thinking it shouldn't jinx them.

Right now, Richie wanted to enjoy the peace. It was rare he had time to — and much less wanted to — do absolutely nothing. For once he had no pressing mental commands to go and build. There was nothing suspicious happening and obviously no school not to study for. His parents were out of town for the weekend; he had no worries at all. So, with all of this nothingness in mind, he flicked through the magazine — which turned out to be one of Sharon's bizarre girly mags.

Virgil continued watching television and shovelling popcorn into his mouth while Richie read. One particular article caught his eye.

After a couple of minutes of shared nothingness, Richie decided to let Virgil in on what had him so occupied.

"Hey Virg?"

"Mm?" Virgil didn't even look at him.

"I think I'm gay."

"Sure, Rich. That's cool."

Richie grinned and counted to three before Virgil finally caught up to the conversation.

"Wait. What?" Virgil finally turned from the television to stare at his friend. "Are you serious? You're gay? For how long?"

Richie shrugged. "The magazine told me I was."

"Gimme that." Virgil snatched the offending article and read over it. "'Is he really just Metro, or completely not Hetero?' Who comes up with these titles?"

"It rhymes at least." Richie stole the bowl of popcorn as Virgil continued reading. "You know V," he said quietly — a little more serious than he had been before, "It might not be total crap."

Virgil looked at his best friend — really looked. Richie could feel the difference between Virgil's curious glances and his penetrating examinations. This was somewhere on the level of working out a new way to apply string theory to a mostly Euclidian equation. He swallowed and tried not to look away but Virgil just shook his head and smiled.

"Well whaddya know: you really do learn something new everyday."

Virgil's flippant comment had the figurative effect of a bucket of ice water drenching two teenage boys on … well, a stifling Dakota summer day.

"Glad I could contribute to your slowly rotting intelligence," Richie rolled his eyes and turned over onto his stomach to resume watching mindless entertainment.

Virgil chuckled. "C'mon man, it's all cool. Really. But I've just gotta ask you something very important now."

Virgil looked so serious; Richie sat up and nodded his head, hanging on Virgil's next sentence.

"I have to know: which of the Backstreet Boys is _really_ the cutest?"

Virgil was still spitting out feathers by dinner time.


End file.
